'Why I "broke" the television during my family's most recent holiday'

The television was huge—so big it took up a large section of the wall between the two sets of double doors which led out onto the beach.

“WOW!” screamed my daughters as we made ourselves familiar with the room, their appreciation no doubt directed at the azure water and swaying palm trees visible from every pane of glass located around our holiday home.

I was wrong, of course. The ‘wow’ (on repeat, mind you) was reserved exclusively for the television, far bigger than the one we have at home.

No mention of the kayaks lying in the garden just begging to be taken out on the lagoon, and no interest in the snorkel gear hanging up by the dining table—just good old-fashioned screen time.

“What do you want to watch first?” my eldest asked her sister as they settled on the couch, clearly intent on spending their whole day—and perhaps our whole holiday—there.

Dilvin Yasa may or may not have sabotaged the TV on her family's island holiday. (Supplied)

“I’ll tell you what we’re going to watch first,” I shouted as I snatched the remote out of my daughter’s hands. “We’re going to watch the kaleidoscope of fish swimming around just behind our home, that’s what.”

I’m happy to say the kids were suitably happy with the entertainment provided by our gilled friends.

It was 15 minutes into our snorkelling adventure that the idea first came to me.

I wanted every day, every minute to be uninterrupted enjoyment of one another’s company – a space for conversation, reflection and love.

"Without television in our lives, we reconnected in a way that just isn’t possible when screens are present." (Supplied)

What I didn’t want was for every activity to be a race to the finish line so that the girls could rush back home, rinse the sand off their feet and zombie-watch television just because it’s there.

So, I did what any sane adult in my position would do: I raced back to the house first, pulled the batteries out of the remote and pulled at various wires until the television didn’t work any more. What a pity.

As predicted, the girls came back all salty and sun-kissed, ready for some quality viewing time in front of the box—but oh, what’s this? The television isn’t working?

How sad it is we’re on an island firmly in favour of island time, without a snowball’s hope in hell of getting it fixed during our week there! And how terrible the Wi-Fi is unreliable and expensive!

The girls moaned for approximately two minutes before my eldest pulled out a card game and we sat around the dining table and played until we grew sleepy.

The second day the girls did not ask about getting the television fixed, nor did they ask on day three, four, five or six.

They put that ‘worthless unit’ (my daughter’s words) to the back of their minds and wholeheartedly invested in our holiday.

They said ‘wow’ when we went on a lagoon cruise, and ‘wow’ when we played for hours with hermit crabs on the beach. We talked, we laughed and my God, how we ate.

Without television in our lives, we reconnected in a way that just isn’t possible when screens are present—be it a phone, a tablet, or yes, that massive thing taking up most of the wall between two French doors.

"I suspect I’ll be removing TV batteries and cords for as long as I can get away with it." (Instagram)

On our final day as we were heading to the airport, I had to race back into the house as I’d ‘forgotten my hat’.

As I plugged the TV back in and put the batteries back in the remote, I was tempted to write the following note for the next guests checking in:

“Dear fellow travellers, it’s only a proper holiday if you ‘break’ the television’. Remove the batteries to see what I mean.”

I suspect I’ll be removing batteries and cords for as long as I can get away with it.